Exposed

Chapter Twenty-Five

The sound of a glass resting on the nightstand beside me is actually what wakes me up. I blink dizzily, noticing it's not night time any longer. I sense someone moving beside the bed so I turn to look. It's my mother.

My mind slowly begins to remember the pain, the drive to the hospital, the doctor telling me the worst had passed. I turn back over, unsure as to why my heart is beating so wildly.

"Baby," she whispers, sitting down on the mattress. I feel her hand on my waist. "How are you feeling?"

I lick my lips. "Where is Matteo?"

She's quiet for a moment. "He's with Charles."

I look back, unsurely. "You've met him?"

She nods, looking down. "He's a lovely baby."

"Yes, he is," I say, not hiding my disdain for her absence. She breathes in and I see water in her eyes.

"I've been so cruel to you. I-I should have tried to be more understanding... I just want so much for you, Emma. Hearing how badly you hurt today and knowing we weren't speaking, that you are angry at me... I will do anything to make you forgive me, Emma."

I stare at her, silently and she continues.

"I love you, Emma. Your father loves you. He wants to give you away."

"To Matteo," I press disbelievingly.

She nods. "Your father and I were... very impressed at how he handled things yesterday. He's very protective of you. It's a relief to see."

"Why was he in Savannah?"

She shakes her head. "He just showed up. We were surprised he was without you, but he said he made a detour after a conference. He came to talk to us, about you and him. He explained what's been going on the past couple months... why you'd been so upset."

I stay quiet, unsure as to what he told her. Thankfully, she continues so I'm enlightened. "We had no idea about his family. Now, I can see why you're so careful to protect him."

He told them? My eyes are wide. "He told you about them? About his parents?

She nods. "And his aunt. And Charles and the predicament that he put you through, why you felt compelled to marry him in order to get Charles. He said that he's been a lousy husband, but that he loves you. He asked us to reconsider not going to your wedding."

I feel so much love for him in that moment. My god, it must have taken so much for him to have told them about his past, to confide in them, knowing there was a chance they'd turn him away indefinitely. I shake my head, warm in one of his workout hoodies.

"I would like you to be there, if you would go," I whisper emotionally.

She scoots closer, taking my hand. "We would be happy to."

I look away, hoping to keep my emotions in check. My body's first instinct is to cry.

"How are you feeling?"

"I don't know."

"Are you hurting?"

I shake my head, even though I am. I don't want to let her know that though.

"Will... will you answer me truthfully if I ask something?" I don't answer her so she asks anyway. "Did you know... that you were pregnant?"

"No," I admit. "No, I had no idea. I didn't suspect anything because of my periods... and everything has been so crazy..."

"It's not your fault, Emma."

I have a sinking feeling in my gut that just won't seem to go away. "I didn't take care of myself. I haven't been eating like I should. I-I drank really heavily last week. I think... I think..."

"You think what?"

I close my eyes, pressing my hands over my face. "I think I killed it. I killed the baby." I feel her move closer, her hand smooth's over the back of my head. "And then- And then I feel like I shouldn't even be able to cry. I shouldn't be able to grieve. I didn't even know about it, but it hurts more than I thought it would."

"Of course it does. You can grieve all you want. You went through a lot of pain. I know a woman, a friend who had one... a miscarriage. She said it's normal to grieve for the loss of the baby. She said she cried for a very long time."

"What if I can't have children?" I ask, wiping my silent tears slowly.

"Do you want children? I mean, you still have a young one out there. Isn't he a handful?"

I nod. "He is. He is. I don't know what I'm thinking."

"It's natural instinct to want a baby, sweetheart."

I shake my head. "I don't think I could go through that pain again. It hurt," I confess, breathing in. I'm struggling to keep it together, truly struggling. I drop my face into my hands and my chest feels like it implodes within, causing hysterics. I settle into the warmth of my mother as she wraps her arms around my body, squeezing tightly, letting me soak her shoulder with my tears.

"It's alright. Cry as much as you want," she coos, stroking my hair repeatedly.

***

It's nighttime again when I open my eyes once more. My entire body is stiff and unbelievably sore. I feel like I can't even lift my head to look at the time. I'm cocooned, protected by the large familiar feel of my husband. His arms are around my body, the front of his body conformed to mine.

He's awake, I know it. I can tell. I lift my head, feeling the roughness of his stubble on my cheek and he squeezes me tighter. I feel an outpouring of love. He's not even speaking and I feel it. It's overwhelming.

He's apologizing without uttering a word.

His mouth presses to my forehead gently and I digress again, despite myself, losing hold of myself. I'm heaving against him, but he continues to press his cheek to my hair, holding me as tight as he can.

"I'm so sorry, baby," he whispers. "I'm sorry."

"I... I'm sorry," I stutter, lifting my hand to my face. I want to stop. I try to stop but the tears won't cease.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing."

"I didn't know. I didn't know."

"I know you didn't."

"I wish I hadn't lost it. I wish I hadn't. It was... It was ours."

The words pour out from my mouth and settle on my lips. I hadn't even really put together the fact that Matteo and I had actually created a baby together.

The reality of that observation hurts more than anything else.